I Sing a Song of Perdicas
by Neftzer
Summary: COMPLETE Full-text imagined of the poem Gabrielle only just begins to recite to Xena at the end of INTIMATE STRANGER.


This is the (as I imagined it) full-text version of the poem Gabrielle began to recite to Xena at the end of the episode _Intimate Stranger_. It is written in the style of a petition to the gods to argue for Perdicas' status as a hero, thereby ensuring him a position in the Elysian Fields, the heros paradise

* * *

**I Sing a Song of Perdicas: A Petition**  
_From the scrolls of Gabrielle, Bard of Poteidaia_

Invocation of the Muse  
I, Gabrielle, Bard of Poteidaia, ask for the vision of Melpomene, as the story I have to tell is a tragic one, and for the inspiration and guidance of Calliope, who brings to all who seek it the beauty of epic poetry.

**I.**  
I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who sleeps in Hades' arms.  
Who went to Troy a soldier born  
From Poteidaia's farms.

I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who learnt of Ares' ways,  
In battlefields where legends grew  
Blood suckl'd in hubris' haze.

The cry of Troy called, "Helen's ours!"  
The cry of Greece the same  
To own the rights to Zeus' child  
Her beauty to lay claim.  
For Paris' eyes had wandered far  
From her, his stolen sin.  
Kept Helen locked in Troy to spite  
Menelaus, her nearest kin.

**II.**  
I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who'd fled from Cupid's bow.  
In whose true aim he'd felt more sting  
Than joy, in finding love.

I sing a song of Perdicas.  
Without Athena's aid  
His fate he'd meet in Greece's clutch  
A warrior yet unmade.

From high upon the battlements,  
He stood in watch three years,  
Full-knowing he had chosen ill,  
And like would die uncared.  
Far past was any thought to glory.  
Unspoke was any thanks.  
But from Celesta's death-cold grip,  
Came fast his rise in ranks.

Months, days proved long, all heroes gone,  
Left were the mad and lame.  
The siege pressed on with no respite  
Until two strangers came.  
A face he saw out on the field  
Caused him to ope' the gate  
To Warrior Princess and her friend,  
Helen-sent, and not by Fate.

**III.**  
I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who joined in Xena's plan.  
And saving those whose lives he could,  
Chose where to take his stand.

I sing a song of Perdicas.  
Naught but Hephestaus' steel,  
Could breech the mighty Trojan gates-  
But came a horse on wheels.

All made with sticks wrapped tight with twine,  
It held a poor surprise,  
That spawned the phrase, "Beware of Greeks,"  
"The gifts they bear are lies!"  
Then smuggled out of Troy's strong walls  
While inside battles raged:  
Princesses two, a bard and he  
Saved by the horse's cage.

On freedom, all did bid farewell,  
And set out two by two.  
Good Perdicas, he left his love  
As once she did eschew.

**IV.**  
They traveled far, both fought to live,  
Though she no blood did spill  
But in regret, he'd give his life,  
So sick of death, so ill.  
In dreams he saw the face of men,  
Of all that he had killed.  
No vision seen could stop his hand  
But that of Gabrielle.

A song I sing of Perdicas-  
To drink of Mnemosyne  
He spurned his past to find his love  
To feel once more serene.

**V.**  
I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who wed in Hestia's sight,  
Not knowing soon that he'd be dead  
Short past his bridal night.

To get revenge for Xena's past,  
Bloody Callisto came.  
To kill the unprotected bard-  
Now wife by Hestia's name.  
But when her sword came down on flesh,  
The cut was felt by two  
For though the wound was Perdicas',  
His lover cleaved was too.

And laid he in her arms bereft  
Of all Asclepian gifts.  
Dying without the strength to pass,  
A word by his fair lips.  
He'd searched to find Demeter's bliss,  
To scorn the violent way.  
Make of his life a different path;  
Seek love and peace always.

**VI.**  
I sing a song of Perdicas,  
Who went with Hermes' guide,  
A dinar his to pay the fare  
For Charon's lonely ride.

The Maid wove true his weave of self,  
The Mother measured short.  
And Lachesis, she clipped my love,  
Bringing this sad report.

**VII.**  
For Perdicas I fear there are  
No Islands of the Blessed-  
His face now grey in Tartarus  
Not Elysian-breeze caressed.

I ask the Fates to watch him there,  
Consider this account:  
That courage in the life he lived  
Was never once in doubt.

This song I sing of Perdicas,  
He sleeps in Hades, low.  
A song for me to comfort bring  
And tell where eer I go.

Of Perdicas I sing a song  
This hymn of what has passed,  
In dying well, he took my place,  
And sleeps in peace at last.


End file.
